White Towers
by Kathey27
Summary: Why not be broken together? / Or, It begins like a really bad joke. She was still reeling from Sam and he was still watching Dean and they'd both been a bit lonely and on the insane side of things that night. AU Season 5.


**A/N: Because I realized, for the first time ever, that Castiel had never even spoken her name.**

**…No seriously, I went back and rewatched all of season 4. Not once.**

**I should be working on another story that involves Ruby and a certain quiet blonde man but I've struck a wall there and this has been sitting in my folder for a while now so I decided to finally finish it up!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned anything I wouldn't have to fight the urge to cry every time I think about how amazing and beautiful Ruby could have been to her boys.**

**xxxxxx**

**white towers:**

She doesn't remember a lot from her days as a human.

She remembers she'd sold her soul and she remembers that it'd been for selfish reasons and she remembers that when the hell hounds had come for her the plague had already reached her and she'd only had three days left. She remembers the relief masked through with the pain when the end finally came.

These are all the things she remembers.

And that she'd had blue eyes.

xxxxxx

It begins like a really bad joke.

She was still reeling from Sam and he was still watching Dean and they'd both been a bit lonely and on the insane side of things that night.

They were both at the same bar in the same town in the same city.

She was there with perfect, straight blonde hair and red-rimmed eyes.

He was there with ruffled, bed hair and the saddest blue eyes in the world.

They spotted each other and shared a few drinks, mutual hatred set aside for the mutual heartbreak emanating from them both.

"Sam left me." She offered after the sixth. "Said he couldn't keep lying to Dean. Said I was dirty. That I was killing him."

"Dean kissed me." He gave in return and threw back his shot flawlessly. "It was warm and weird and soft and afterwards he told me to get out."

Pause.

"Come on wings, let me take care of you." She offered him her borrowed hand.

He took it after only three seconds of hesitation.

xxxxxx

He has a thing for hair pulling.

She learns this the first night.

She's straddling him and kissing his neck and running her nails through his hair and then she pulls down on those soft, dark locks and the throaty moan that escapes his lips has her gasping in pleasure.

xxxxxx

She traces his skin with her nails and kisses the blood that blooms.

"You're bleeding."

"Yes."

"Jimmy's dead…isn't he?"

"Yes."

"You're falling."

"…Yes."

She kisses the place where his heart would be if he was real.

xxxxxx

They both know they're not the first choice but that's okay because when he brings her fries or when she fixes his tie it makes up for the hollowness in them both.

They still see the Winchesters because they're still fighting for the same cause them all but it hurts to see their boys avoiding their glances.

When they return to their hotel room he fucks her hard and fast and sloppily and she has bruises on the inside of her thighs and back for a week.

xxxxxx

He trails his lips against her hips, nipping and biting at her smooth skin. His touch is no longer as clumsy as it'd once been and he knows all the tricks that get her screaming and withering and when his breath falls on her face she's left shuddering and begging for more.

"We won't win."

"We've got to try anyways."

"Lucifer can't be stopped by us."

"Says who?"

"We won't live to see the end of this war."

"…Then we might as well enjoy ourselves then, shouldn't we?"

He continues to press soft kisses onto her stolen skin.

xxxxxx

It's sad really, how much pining and whining she does for a demon. She's supposed to be made out of fire and hate and cruel and strong and hellfire but when the Winchester looks at her she's left with nothing and she's gasping and pleading and she can't breathe until his hands are on her and his breath is fanning her skin.

xxxxxx

It's scary really, how much brooding and sighing he does for an angel. He's supposed to be made out of light and warmth and strength and good and heaven but when the Winchester glances at him he's left with nothing and he's choking and begging and he can't breathe until her lips are on him and her hair is brushing along his thighs.

xxxxxx

He doesn't remember Heaven that well anymore.

He remembers that it'd been bright and power rushing through his nonexistent veins and he remembers that it'd been hard and strict and there had been no room to breathe and he remembers that he'd longed for something more. He remembers that the day news of the righteous man came he'd been scared but ready.

These are all the things he can remember.

And that he gave it all up for the Winchester.

xxxxxx

His Winchester notices first because his eyes are the ones that rack over things over and over until it clicks upstairs and that'd never been a bad thing before whatever is going on happened.

"You and Rubes seem pretty friendly."

The angel frowns and glances down at his hands, rubbing at the nonexistent dirt. "She is…good company."

Sparkling eyes and a crinkled smile. "I'm good company."

("No, you suck the life out of me.") "I suppose." He replies.

xxxxxx

When her Winchester notices, it's explosive.

"What are you doing?"

She glances up from her food briefly before looking away. (He never forgot the ketchup). "Whatever do you mean?" She asks because she's finally re-mastered that nonchalant voice that'd once been so easy around those green eyes.

"Look, Cas is an angel alright? He's not some puppet for you to play with. He's innocent."

("He is the kinkiest lover I've ever had.") "Relax, I know." She replies.

xxxxxx

She traces his muscles and scars and skin and licks her way up to his face.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" She asks because she's always been just a bit insecure inside and needs an answer from someone who can look into her eyes and not see black.

"…I don't know." He replies because he doesn't and he's falling and he no longer has the ability to look into her that way.

"Not what I meant." She sighs but continues on anyways because she needs it too.

xxxxxx

The Winchesters see something building and they both know it's going to explode eventually but they stay out of it because…well, they lost the right a long while ago.

xxxxxx

He sometimes likes to stare into onyx instead of blue.

She doesn't understand it but does it anyways because it makes him feel something and isn't that the whole point of them? To feel…something.

He stares into her onyx eyes and trails her skin and rubs her flesh and steals her breath and when it's over and she's left fighting the need to curl into herself he looks away and won't look back until blue's there.

She doesn't ask.

xxxxxx

She sometimes likes to graze her nails into his back, in long harsh slants that run from his waist up to his shoulder blades.

He doesn't understand it but allows it anyways because it makes her feel something and that is the whole point to them isn't it? To feel…anything.

She scratches deep lines and draws blood and kisses his skin and takes away all the pain and when it's over and he's left gasping for breath and air she looks away and won't look back until he's cleaned up all the blood.

He doesn't ask.

xxxxxx

She takes him clothes shopping in the winter and he keeps getting lost and somehow ends up in Victoria's Secret at one point and she has to drag him out before anyone can call the cops because not everyone is as understanding as her and the Winchesters when it came to his creeping staring thing.

When it's over he's the owner of a new black trench coat.

xxxxxx

The Winchesters switch it up.

They refuse to accept whatever it is that's going on and have decided to change tactics.

xxxxxx

His Winchester finds her at a bar waiting for him – he insists he isn't an alcoholic but they always seem to find their way back to the starting point anyways – and if she's surprised she doesn't show it.

"So you and Cas pals now?"

She takes a big bite out of her burger. She swallows before addressing his Winchester. She's too tired to try and cover it up anymore. "Fuck buddies, sure."

His Winchester leaves looking slightly green.

She grins and goes back to her food.

xxxxxx

Her Winchester finds him in front of a McDonalds waiting for her – she insists it's the fries and not the ice cream that keeps her from leaving but she still orders both every time – and if he's shocked he doesn't show it.

"So, you and Ruby…" Her Winchester never did have the stealth that his did.

He goes inside and her Winchester follows. They take a seat on a pair of wheeled stools. He sighs before answering her Winchester. He's too tired to try and lie anymore. "Are sleeping together, yes."

Her Winchester leaves angry.

He gets up and makes the order one to go.

xxxxxx

They spend an afternoon walking around New York and it's all lights and noise and people rushing to places miles away and they go to sleep under a starry sky.

xxxxxx

"This…whatever this is…it's gotten complicated, hasn't it?" She asks over the darkness of the motel room.

"Wasn't it always?" He replies as he continues to trace her bones beneath her skin.

xxxxxx

Those unrequited feelings are no longer there and she can barely remember why she had once cherished the sight of her Winchester and he can't recall anymore why he had once loved the idea of his Winchester being _his_.

xxxxxx

She rolls him over and her hair creates a curtain for them and there are tears in her eyes.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" And it's the third time she's asked this. The second time he'd been asleep and she'd whispered it against his chest, in hopes of his fake heart hearing.

He brings his hands up to her hips and the warmth of his fingers speak volumes to her.

He gazes up at her silently at this and then one of his hands is catching a stray tear quickly.

"…I think so." He gives back because he still doesn't know. He's getting there.

She lets out a breath. "Okay."

xxxxxx

It gets really complicated a good while in and by then it's too late to try and extricate themselves from whatever…they are.

See, Lucifer has a thing for visiting dreams it appears and one night instead of tormenting her Winchester the fallen angel decides to go after the forgotten ones.

Their dreams are filled with blood and fire and heat and flashes of silver and there are screams and two pairs of blue eyes gazing at each other and then there's nothing.

She wakes up gasping and sweating.

He wakes up wheezing and trembling.

They clasp hands.

xxxxxx

His Winchester goes to him first and asks: "Is it true?"

His Winchester gets a flap of wings and an empty room.

His Winchester then goes to her and asks: "Why him?"

His Winchester gets a: "Why not him?" and a shrug.

xxxxxx

"I think we can win."

The words are uttered in a dim room with a single mattress with blood red sheets and two bodies huddled together for warmth and something else they won't allow to be said out loud.

She glances over at him in shock and there's a light in his eyes that hadn't been there that day in that bar what seems like lifetimes ago.

"About time feathers."

She looks up at the ceiling and before she can do it his hand is wrapping itself around hers and holding tight.

"I'd like to…keep you. Afterwards. If that's okay. With you, I mean."

She glances back and the smile that's on her face is undeniable.

"You sweet talker you."

They fall asleep with their arms wrapped around each other and air being shared.

xxxxxx

The Winchesters bring in reinforcements.

xxxxxx

The old drunk calls her and she goes because despite the old drunk's best efforts and her reluctance, they had somehow become friends during those four months his Winchester was down under and gone.

"Heard about you and the angel."

She keeps her eyes on the holy water laced beer in front of the old drunk. "They rat us out?"

"Ya happy with that idjit?"

The question gets asked because somehow along with becoming friends she managed to fit into the mold the old drunk had been reserving for a daughter. She fit into the mold (a bit too) perfectly.

"I think I might be in love with him." It feels terrifying to say those words out loud. The movies always say it'll feel good. Like relief. Freaking Hollywood.

The old drunk passes her a clean beer can and nods. "Well alright then."

xxxxxx

Her Winchester goes to her first and asks: "How in the hell did this happen?"

Her Winchester gets a middle finger and a demand of ketchup the next time any bribing is tried. She leaves with the French fries.

Her Winchester then goes to him and asks: "Why her?"

Her Winchester gets a: "She has the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." and a smirk.

"…they are a pretty amazing shade of blue."

The smirk turns sad. "Not what I meant."

xxxxxx

"You're pretty." He whispers into her hair a while later and the words leave her warm and filled with all those feelings they both still refuse to vocalize.

xxxxxx

The old drunk has him over for beer and he actually feels nervous.

He knows how important the old drunk is to her despite her scoffs and eye rolls and he knows he can't mess this up.

The old drunk glares at him sharply as he sips away at the beer. He puts it down.

"You're taking care of the girl, ain't ya?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Ya love her?"

He swallows, looks down and then back up. "I…I believe so."

"…Good."

xxxxxx

He finishes falling gracefully.

She's there when it happens and so are the Winchesters but at the moment they only serve as two unimportant details.

It's two weeks before Detroit and the four are at a diner and she's leaning into his side and he's brushing her bangs away and the Winchesters are looking at anywhere but them.

His skin heats up and his breath escapes and he's clutching the table top tightly and then it's over and she's holding him to her and he can only hear wisps of her voice over the roaring noise in his ears and the blood pumping loudly through his veins.

xxxxxx

She kisses the place where his heart is.

xxxxxx

Lucifer visits their dreams once more and instead of bloody it's tragic and sad and there are tombstones and cries and loss.

She wakes up crying into his chest.

He wakes up clutching her tight.

xxxxxx

She was right.

They lose a lot of good people and a lot of blood is shed but eventually it all comes full circle in Detroit.

The two angels battle it out and it's loud and fierce and the Winchesters tear at each other viciously under the control of two other brothers and they watch it all with glossy eyes and trembling hands.

It's looking bad, really bad and then…

They somehow end up winning and her Winchester is still alive and his Winchester is still alive and the old drunk can walk now and…and it's all going to be okay.

xxxxxx

"I think I might love you." Pause. "Is that okay with you?"

It's been a month since Detroit and a month since either of them has seen either Winchester and it's in Spain and it comes out of nowhere.

"…I think I could handle it." He responds.

"Good, I wasn't really asking anyways." She mumbles shyly and it's endearing beyond belief.

He presses a smile against her skin and sighs. "Didn't think you were."

"Smartass."

"Blonde."

"Human."

"Demon."

"…I love you."

"…I love you too."


End file.
